


Dawn of Sterling

by Ruinelisp (chubpug)



Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Other, Post-Canon, SYOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 02:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5075179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chubpug/pseuds/Ruinelisp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>War carve legends, heroes and villains alike. The world may seem rotten to the core through the eyes of many, who are blind to the truth. And through the eyes are mind and souls willing to make sacrifices for the better. Emerging from darkness, years after the second Great War, a new group of hunters, huntresses, and villains. Post-RWBY storyline (SYOC open)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dawn of Sterling

**Cinder**

The rising blooded sun marked the dawn of a new age.

Lives were lost, sure. Some for the better, others for the worse. But in the end, they were all just mere stepping stones. Across the calm ocean up to a new revolution.

Cinder Falls lay against a large oak tree, overlooking the rising sun above Vale. It rested above in a forest in a face of a mountain high above. She took a sigh,  the cold, crisp air revitalizing her senses and opening her eyes. To a new age. Whether her plan was successful or a failure, it didn’t matter.

It never did. She was another stepping stone.

A simple diversion. All her plans. The Faunus Uprising. The Attack of Grim. The Dust Strike. The Fallen Hope. The war.

They knew she was going to fail.

They knew, but they didn’t say. They knew, but they let her try. They knew.

Under a great oak tree, into the face of a waking sun, Cinder’s sharp nails dug into her palm, drawing blood. There was a small, white-hot flare, then a dull  warmness, as her delicate skin sealed together again. She was made to BURN, to not _smolder_. She was made to burn forever.

But once, a long, long time ago, a human said otherwise. He warned her, ‘We all must die someday.’

Cinder could remember the moment as clear as day.

He was a handsome, young man. Newly married, from a small village. A small village, one which she incinerated. She could still remember his cries to spare his wife and family, but not himself. He was willing to throw his life away for them.  Now, to another person, that must’ve been endearing, must’ve stuck in their mind.

But what really stuck in her mind, was how he told her to spare not him or her family, but herself. _Herself_.

He, the last one, called her human.

She remembered how she sneered and called him a fool. She remembered how he didn’t scream or wail or hide like the others as he burned to his death. As his village and his people went up in flames around him, he didn’t make a sound. 

If it were any other massacre, she wouldn’t have minded, but this man and his village stuck in her head like gum to the sole of a shoe. Something so small she couldn’t get off the sole of her mind. It was annoying. It was her first mission, her first test run.

The orders were simple, three words, easy to comprehend: ‘ _End this village.’_ Cinder didn’t know why she was ordered to this specific village, nor did she care. But she could still remember how excited she felt that day, the rush of adrenaline that flowed through her, fueling her flame. How easily she took her first victim’s life. And the second. The third. The fourth, and others. Until the last. 

She could only remember up to there.

The rest after that was a blur, how she was quickly collected, tested on, and sent out again, how even more power surged through her body, as her flames and magic grew deadlier and deadlier. She grew into her role as a dangerous bioweapon, something used to claim victory. Much has happened since she escaped, too much to recall now.

 

As the sun slowly rose, it’s shy rays trickling out from the horizon, it intruded the shade where Cinder rested, slowly crawling up further up the girl’s fair skin. She tilted her head back and enjoyed the small warmth.

Until she smelled smoke.

Usually the smell wouldn’t bother her. To her, it would smell natural and usual. 

_The smell of burning flesh._ But this time was different. 

_Nobody was around but her._

Mustering up the energy to tilt her head up towards the source bought her a feeling that would follow her into her darkest nightmares and into the depths of hell.

Dread.

Quickly followed by pain and panic. She was burning, she was smoldering. For once, she felt the heat radiating off her body. For once, it _burned._

A shriek rose from the depths of her chest and reached her lips, pulling them wide open in a scream. But no matter how loudly she screamed or how much she silently begged for it to stop, it couldn’t change how much it hurt. Her nails dug into her skin, back into the thin, new tissue. And for once, she knew it wouldn’t heal. She will continue to bleed, to stain the world of her murderous blood. She cried and trashed around, unable to to stop the fire. Flames licked her skin, curling up like parchment, then disappearing into the dawn. Cinder’s world became an inferno.

It slowly made it’s way, from where the rays first struck, crawling up, engulfing her, leaving black, flakey, charred skin in it’s trail. Then, as gradual as it started, Cinder’s breathing became labored and eventually stopped. The tight fist, curled in painful defiance, relaxed, fingers blacked and charred.

Then there was silence.

* * *

**_.Ivory._ **

Rustling. Frosted, dead brown leaves fell, lazily fall through the air in a turntable fashion, others taking a slower descent. A soft sigh taken in the silence formed a small cloud, quickly disappearing in the cold. 

A small, pink tongue ran over dark, cherry red lips, warm against cold. A petite, trench coat-clad figure perched cross-legged upon a high tree branch bought it’s legs close, knees to it’s chest. It shivered as the winds softly blew; least it was better than before. It seems to be dying down now. It’s dull, onyx eyes flicked over the charred figure at the base of it’s tree, eyeing it wearily. The figure nodded to itself, an assurance that the lifeless body below wouldn’t be moving anytime soon. It scooted over to the edge of the branch, then swung itself off. And then he was falling.

Ivory Ruine twisted in midair and gripped his weapons, a pair of golden daggers. He grit his teeth and dug the tips into the tree bark, attempting to slow his fall. He dug the blades deeper and deeper into the trunk, until they almost completely disappeared into the wood, with only the hilts sticking out. He quickly reached to a stop a good meters above the snow-covered ground, then did a flip off the dark trunk, yanking out them out in the process. He landed softly in the snow, boots sinking a bit into the cold slush, beside Cinder’s body.

Ivory studied the face of the terrorist. A queen, she called herself. An empress, she later claimed.

The woman seemed to be peace now, though it was the first time he’s seen her in person. The blackened lips seemed to twist into a malicious smirk the longer he stared at them, through in actuality, they were still pursed into a thin, black line. He tore his gaze away from them and decided to glare at the cold, wet slush at his feet. _Goddamn stupid snow._

Now dead before him, she didn’t look any different from the pictures of her days in Beacon, save the ebony skin. 

Time and memories of battle have taken their tolls against many fighters in the war, scarring many physically and mentally. She was lucky. Many members of now infamous teams that fought bravely, swore to never taste blood of war every again, some seeking help, others going into hiding. Cinder Falls ultimately went into hiding after her attempt to bring Vytal into an all out war failed, behind the covers of her loyal followers. It had taken years for the kingdoms to begin rebuild upon new legends and hope, but the damage has been done: Vytal was in pieces. 

Ivory’s lips twisted into a scowl. 

Times were tough for many. Taxes and prices rose. Morale and hope were shattered. The kingdoms, Vale in particular, were wrecked. The government and society was in shambles; nobody knew what to do in times of chaos. And in times of chaos, leaders will rise. This could only be for the better of the business and worse for the kingdoms.

He fixed his hateful gaze back to the body and solemnly nodded to the girl who started it all. He took off his hood, freeing long, snow-white hair blowing softly into the biting wind. “To the fallen queen.” He raised a single, booted foot, and bought it down upon her chest. The blackened body caved inwards and collapsed; it was hollow, just a weak structure of black ashes. 

A strong gust of wind blew, carrying them away, off the scatter them into all four corners of Vale. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in ff.net.
> 
> Student Form: https://www.fanfiction.net/topic/179045/133940687/1/SYOC-Student-Form
> 
> Teacher Form: https://www.fanfiction.net/topic/179045/134029555/1/SYOC-Teachers-and-Staff-Form


End file.
